The Mobster's Son
by words.left.unsaid
Summary: She was a blossoming musician with a tortured past and he was the knight in shining armor that didn't want to save her. What happens when their lives collide years later? Will sparks fly? Or will she end up getting burned? WARNING: MobWard and violence
1. Prologue

**RE-POST: 4/20/11**

**A/N: Sorry for the wait my faithful minions ;) I hope you like this version of TMS. Personally, **_**I **_**think it's better, but it really is up to you guys. **

**I've decided to leave all my original rambling 'Author's Notes' up…just cuz :)**

**Warning: Contains mature themes…Do not read if you have an aversion to attempted rape, the Mob, potty mouth language, and Doucheward… **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, but I do own a Nokia 5310 XpressMusic cell phone that is currently being held together with crazy glue…GO FINLAND!...not**

He was lying on his back, comforted by the soft cushiony pillows beneath him. His eyes slowly drifting closed as sleep threatened to invade. But the comfort being brought on by Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata playing softly from his black iPod was quickly crumbled by the incessant pounding of small hands on his bedroom door.

His usually emerald green eyes changed to a light amber color in his annoyance. He was tired and _she_ knew that. It was late, almost midnight. The days since graduation had become a blur and boredom had begun to make him ache for the coming days and his trip to Chicago.

Alice was standing on the other side of the door banging her small fists on her twin brother's door, willing him to get up.

"Edward, please open the door," her voice was a terrified trembling whisper as she frantically twisted the elaborate golden knob on his door, even though she knew he had locked it.

Edward huffed in annoyance but got up anyways knowing that if he ignored her, she would probably take a hammer to his cherry wood bedroom door. It was an unusual color door to use inside but it made the house seem like a home with its warm inviting color.

He opened his door with an annoyed glare, "What?" he said rudely, eyeing his sister like she was the devil's spawn. He loved his sister and would die for her but sometimes he wanted to strangle her.

Her fear was palpable so he inquired as to what was wrong.

"Something's wrong…_really really wrong_... I know it. I can feel it." Her voice became a whisper as she spoke; fear evident in her half-crazed words.

"Alice, you're scaring me," he said, his arms coming up to wrap around her trembling shoulders. She twisted out of his grip and backed into the wall behind her. Her breathing was jolted and her eyes were wide.

"It's Bella," she whimpered.

He stiffened. "Nothing's wrong Alice. It's all in your head. Go back to bed. I'm tired." He wanted nothing to do with the likes of Isabella Swan.

"But…but…Edwa-" her words were cut off by the resonating sound of a door slamming. Where her brother once stood, was his cherry wood door. She bowed her head in defeat; staring unseeingly at his gold door knob, trying without luck to figure out what to do to save her best friend…her sister.

She knew of Edward's unjustified hate towards her best friend. But she had a _feeling_ that her best friend was in danger. Her brother was the only one there when this feeling attacked her senses. Her other brother Emmett was on a date with his girlfriend, her boyfriend wasn't answering his phone, and her parents had gone out for dinner and a movie. She needed his help but the malevolent thoughts he had deluded himself into believing about her new best friend were baseless and biased at best. She couldn't understand it. Her entire family, Jasper and even Rosalie who was rather heartless at times seemed to be quite taken with Isabella Swan.

She sighed and shuffled back to her room, doubting herself suddenly. Her visions had never been wrong before and this was the most powerful one as of yet. The others were mere flashes of events that folded out seconds later. But this…this was different. It felt like a deep cold, coming from her very core. But then again…she couldn't exactly be sure…she could just be coming down with something.

Lying on her white canopy bed, she fell into a fitful sleep, her dreams turned into nightmares, her feelings turned into malicious monsters with razor sharp teeth snapping at her trying to rip off her limbs, and her thoughts were screaming that she should not have fallen asleep; she should have called Charlie…

She woke with a start as her subconscious conjured up his name. She was covered in a thin layer of sweat that was rather off putting considering she was wearing pink silk pajamas that were now clinging to her like the angry slime you see in comic books and Superman movies.

She quickly glanced at the clock on her cable box above her ridiculously large flat screen T.V. It was almost three thirty in the morning.

Her phone rang loudly echoing of the walls of the relatively silent room. The only noises were her heavy frenzied breaths and the theme song of 'COPS'.

She scrambled off her bed and ran to her desk where her cell phone laid ringing away.

"Charlie? What's wrong?" she asked, frantic as her remembered her vision.

She heard a deep intake of breath. "Alice I need you to come down to the hospital. I'm in an ambulance with Bella and it doesn't…it doesn't look too good." He sounded like he had been crying.

"What happened? Charlie…please tell me." Alice whimpered into her sparkly pink BlackBerry.

"I can't tell you now. Come down to Forks General. Bring your dad. Maybe he can help her." His voice became quiet towards the end of his grief induced pleas. He wasn't thinking straight that was for sure. Her father was an oncologist, a damn good one, but she was sure Bella wasn't being rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night because she had suddenly 'gotten' cancer.

"Charlie, I'll be there in twenty minutes." Alice reassured him. They had grown close when Bella moved to Forks from Phoenix at the beginning of senior year after her mother died from pancreatic cancer.

It was now summer vacation, and college awaited them. It called their names. Alice knew that the smell of the books at the large library on the University of Washington campus could reel Bella in from a mile away. This was the same Bella who could get lost in a parking lot. She had absolutely no sense of direction whatsoever.

After she hung up, she stumbled from her room to her parents, barging in and going to her father's side immediately, she shook him, her hands trembling as they gripped his grey cotton t-shirt. His hand shot out wrapping around her neck. "Daddy," she wheezed.

Carlisle snatched his hand from his daughters neck. "Fuck Alice, I told you to never touch me when I'm sleeping," he growled sitting up noting the time.

She was pulling on his arms. "We have to go to the hospital," she pleaded.

He froze. "What's wrong?"

"Bella," she stuttered out.

Carlisle was calling for his son as he got his wife out of bed and into some more respectable clothes. Alice looked on helpless as her father pulled on some sweatpants and grabbed her hand, not waiting for Esme who was quickly yanking on some clothes. She stumbled out into the hallway after them.

Edward looked disgruntled, eyeing his father who was urging him to drive Alice to the hospital. Carlisle wanted to get there quickly and assess the situation to make sure it wasn't too dire. He didn't want his daughter witnessing anything like that.

Before she knew it Carlisle had pulled Esme out the door leaving Edward standing unmoving in front of Alice, who was shaking so hard her teeth were rattling.

He didn't even have the heart to regret not heading Alice's earlier warning.

"Edward please," she begged, pulling his arms. Fat tears rolled down her cheeks. "Please," she whispered. He didn't want to help.

He sighed heavily, running his fingers through his hair roughly and said, "Give me five minutes." He had acquiesced, knowing that Alice was in no condition to drive herself.

He went back into his room and emerged three minutes later dressed to find Alice tapping her foot a mile a minute whiles gnawing off her thumb nail.

To anyone else at a different time, the spectacle would have been funny, considering that this four foot eleven inch pixie like person with sharp elf like features, short jet black hair pointed in random directions, light blue eyes, and chalky white skin looked like she was ready to have a brain aneurysm.

During the ride to Forks General, Alice couldn't help feel that Edward was sort of responsible for this. She felt some blame, considering that she knew this was going to happen, yet didn't try harder to prevent it. But, if Edward wasn't so busy being self-absorbed, she might have been able to save her friend from this…whatever _this_ was. As that thought ran through her head, Edward pulled into the parking lot at the hospital. They had arrived before Bella did. This gave them all enough time to get to the Trauma department of the ER.

Carlisle was already bustling around the ER in doctor mode asking God knows what to all the staff members on call. It was all happening so fast. Then the ambulance pulled up to the Emergency Door. They wheeled in a gurney with Bella securely strapped to it with four black strips of nylon crisscrossing over her body. Her father slowly trailing behind as the doctors surrounded his only daughter trying to make sure her life didn't leave her. His face said it all. He was afraid his daughter would become cold, broken, battered, and…dead. He seemed like he was in a daze, not wanting to believe what was happening around him.

Bella looked broken. Nothing else could describe how she looked. Her clothes were covered in blood. Wherever skin was visible, lay dark black and blue marks. The only part of her left unmarked was her face. Her eyes were so expressive; she practically radiated the pain from her being. They were like lasers burning into her best friend and her makeshift family.

She was lonely as a child, and it seemed like everything in her life was turning around, for the better, until now.

That brought her back to what was happening to her at that point in time.

She sensed Carlisle working frantically to assess her injuries. His blue eyes silently begging her to hold on. She had never seen him with that expression. She had seen him with many expressions before. There was the sympathetic look he would give her whenever he knew she was thinking of her mother. There was also the loving look he gave her whenever she did something endearing. She was his daughter. He cursed himself for not protecting her better.

The only other look she had ever seen him give was the murderously angry glare he gave one of his…employees…for looking at her inappropriately.

He was an important man among the wraith like citizens of the Seattle underworld. This doctor that cared so much about human life was very capable of taking one when he needed to.

He was the Don of the Seattle chapter of the Irish Mafia but he chose to stay in Forks to keep a low profile. It wasn't like his real identity was blatantly obvious either.

Bella didn't seem to care that they were wheeling her away to an operating room. All she could focus on was Edward. His emerald eyes seemed to hold an emotion that Bella could only describe as nothing short of disgust. He was either disgusted about her current state – the fact that she was covered in blood – or he was just disgusted about the fact that she existed.

She thought it was the latter. He hated her, she could tell, but he didn't care. She couldn't figure out what she had done to make this beautiful man hate her with such a burning passion. He looked utterly bored as Bella entered the operating room.

The room was a cold wintergreen bluish color filled with scary machines. Bella couldn't bring herself to care about the color of the walls, the temperature of the room, or the ridiculously large machines.

She felt the darkness sinking upon her like a heavy fog, darkening her eyes. All she could hear were the slowing beats of her stressed heart struggling to pump blood through her fragile body. There was a heart monitor that the EMT attached to her chest beeping away-the sticky tape holding it there began to itch. She was in too much pain to actually bring herself to care though.

Her family stood outside the operating room, looking through the glass window that separated the sterile operating room from the hallway of people bustling to get to their hurt loved ones. They listened closely to what was happening.

Alice had other plans.

She turned to her twin, wondering why he turned into a heartless prick wherever or whenever Isabella was concerned.

Her eyes filled with tears once again, "This wouldn't have happened if you listened to me Edward." She whispered quietly, but everyone else heard. They all turned to him. He was leaning against the wall opposite the operating room with his arms folded over his chest in a nonchalant manner. He continued to stare straight ahead as if he didn't hear her, but his eyebrow creased, giving him away. "I will never forgive you if something happens to her Edward." Her voice was more sure, and full of venom.

She felt a hand on her shoulder. It was the hand of someone strong, who worked hard, who was afraid of losing all he had. "Alice, I'm sure Edward didn't mean-" Charlie was quickly cut off by Alice's arsenic coated words.

"Yes. He did mean to. He doesn't care about anyone but himself." Alice spoke through clenched teeth.

Alice looked at her brother, willing herself not to slap him across the face. She knew he wouldn't stop her. He would let her abuse him. If it made his little sister feel better, he would gladly jump in front of a moving bus.

But somewhere, deep down, Alice knew that what she said wasn't true. He did care. He was the most caring person she knew, it was just different when it came to Isabella.

Alice's tirade was interrupted by the sound everyone in that hallway – besides Edward – seemed to dread upon hearing it. It was the sound of a life ending. It was the sound of the beginning of funeral plans, and that sound was coming from the heart monitor that was attached to Isabella's chest – the sticky tape no longer itching because she couldn't feel anymore.

She had succumbed to the darkness, feeling its unbearable weight suffocating her until her seemingly last moments.

Everyone looked on in horror, grief and unadulterated pain as Isabella's life left her, turning her into the cold dead body Charlie had begged her not to become.

A strangled sob left Alice, as she watched the heart monitor connected to Bella's body flat line with a loud obnoxious high pitched beep.

Everything became unclear after that. Alice watched in absolute panic as her father rushed to save her best friend. They place paddles on her chest, each charge failing to 'jumpstart' her heart. They started at 200 and now they were charging 250.

Bella faintly registered the sound of each charge, but her heart just didn't want to obey her souls command to start beating. She felt like she was floating. She started to recount the events of this horrible night.

_She had woken up around midnight to a loud sound coming from the living room. She figured it was Charlie but then she remembered that he was on the graveyard shift until 3 a.m. With caution she slipped out of her bed. She wore nothing but a thin midnight blue baby doll nightie. She crept downstairs and entered the living room. A hand came out of nowhere and covered her mouth. She tried to jerk out of his grasp, knowing that screaming would be fruitless._

"_Did you think I would just forget about you Isabella?" he whispered into her ear and then licked her neck._

_The feeling sent shivers of disgust coursing through her body. She recognized that voice. It was _him_. He was Volturi, an Italian family that fought regularly with the Masen-the organization Carlisle had built. They fought for the right to patrol and deal in the area. Deal as in drugs, weapons, money, blood diamonds, and even women. _

_Felix Volturi was the son of Aro Volturi who happened to be the Don of the Volterra – which was what the Volturi called their organization. _

_Felix spun her around, his large body looming threateningly over hers. He greedily took in her state of undress. _

_Ever since he had seen her in Seattle, shopping over Christmas break he wanted her. Then he noticed that Alice was with her. He recognized her as Carlisle's daughter. That was when he decided to fuck with Carlisle and go after Bella. He wanted revenge because Carlisle had taken a knife to Felix's left eye during a Volturi raid of a Masen warehouse that supposedly held Ak-47's and AR-15's along with hand grenades and rocket launchers. _

_Now revenge had turned into an obsession to possess Bella. To make her his in every way his sick mind conjured up. _

_Her skin was so pale; the blue veins networking through her body were easily visible. Her deep brown eyes and her waist length mahogany colored hair a stark contrast to her skin. She wasn't anorexic thin, she had curves in all the right places, and her flushed skin made her all the more appealing to Felix._

_His face disgusted her. His eye-the one Carlisle slashed-was a cloudy light blue whiles his other eye was small, black, and beady looking. There was a scar starting from his left temple curving down across his eyebrow, his eyelid, through his left eye, and across his nose._

_He looked like a snake ready to bite, injecting his poison inside of her, consuming her, causing her pain, but not killing her, because in his mind 'where was the fun in that?'._

_He openly leered at her and then he suddenly leaned in and covered her lips with his. He tasted of sweat; like he hadn't brushed his teeth in months and his small lips were chapped and rough against Bella's plump, pink, and pouty lips. _

_He tried to pry her lips open with his tongue with no avail. He pulled her towards him, rubbing himself on her front. _

_She whimpered against his lips in fear and pain. He was crushing her spine._

_He took it as a whimper of pleasure and not pain, so he wrapped his arms around her tighter._

_She couldn't breathe. Her body was in desperate need of oxygen. She opened her mouth but was met with Felix's tongue. It felt like sandpaper. She felt herself going faint, she needed to breathe._

_Felix didn't want to let her go now that he tasted her. She was sweet like sugar plums and strawberries and cream._

_He had a wicked thought then. He wanted her to taste like _his_ cream._

_Bella was in desperate need of oxygen so she kneed him in the groin. He doubled over wheezing in pain. He had let her go to hold his private parts. She frantically started to spit his taste out of her mouth. He chuckled, lowly, darkly, and evilly. He stood up shakily, as the pain began to dissipate._

_He slowly walked towards Bella; appreciating the fear that was flickering violently in her eyes. He always loved her eyes, so he told her so._

_She visibly cringed. That…he _didn't_ like at all. He was now standing in front of her, inching closer, but making no move to grab her. With each step he took, she took a step backwards. Soon he had her where he wanted, cornered against a wall. He put his hands on her hips, slowly pulling up her baby doll nightie. She felt the nausea roll over her in waves, each one more aggressive than the last. His calloused fingers clamped onto her ribs and squeezed, so hard she felt and heard one of her ribs crack. He heard too. He squeezed harder and heard three more cracks. She whimpered and bit her lips, trying hard not to give him the satisfaction he so desperately craved._

"_I love it when you scream Isabella." He was a sadistic bastard and he knew it. "I know I can make you scream harder though." _

_He grabbed her harder and picked her up, his hands still clamped down on her broken ribs. Her 5'2'' frame only weighed 98 pounds so it made his job easier. She grunted at the force of it as he threw her onto the glass coffee table in the middle of the room. The fragile glass shattered beneath her, cutting her back and her legs. She felt dizzy as she smelled the rusty salty smell of freshly spilt blood. _

"_Awww. Come on Bella, I'm sure you can scream!" He picked her up with one hand closed tightly around her neck. His ugly scarred face twisted into a vicious sneer. He pushed her against a wall, still strangling her. Her hands were clawing at his; her fingernails digging into his flesh. He relished the pain. _

_He twisted his fists into her midsection feeling – with something akin to delight – as he literally pounded the air from her lungs. _

_But he wasn't satisfied. He wanted to hear her scream. He let go of her throat._

_She fell, folding into herself coughing, her throat was aching. But coughing hurt because of her broken ribs._

_Her chest burned as much needed oxygen was being denied entry into her body. Bella clutched her throat._

_Felix was breathing hard; he pushed his long greasy black hair up away from his face._

"_Oh, come on now Isabella. You will be begging me to kill you by the time I'm finished with you. Now get up." He was becoming angrier as Bella still sat crumpled up trying to breathe without causing herself pain._

"_I said get up!" he barked through clenched teeth as her kicked her in her torso, punctuating each word with a kick of his size 10 white loafers. They looked cheap and trashy, like a wannabe mobster. She had the urge to tell him so and then spit bile in his face._

_He crouched down and rubbed one of her legs, slowly making his way up, loving the way she squirmed in discomfort. He reached the small patch of fabric between her legs and began to tug on them._

"_No!" she screamed loudly as she kicked at him ignoring the pain shooting through her torso as she did so. But the pain got the best of her and she folded up into herself, cradling her midsection, praying that she would wake up from this horrible nightmare. _

"_There we go Bella. It's always more fun to put up a fight when I know you want it." He leaned close to her face, his foul breath washed over her like the plague spreading its black death. "It builds the anticipation." He smirked at her._

_He picked her up, cradling her like a child. He didn't want to kill her. He got off on causing her pain; he wanted to make sure that he could always go back to her for more. _

_He had been stalking her ever since he saw her with Alice on their shopping trip. Alice had finally gotten it out of her at the ending of January when Bella would wake up screaming from nightmares – during their sleepovers – that involved exactly what was happening to her at this very second. _

_He carefully stepped over the shattered glass on the worn hardwood floors; he laid Bella down on the couch. Bella let out a sigh of relief and Felix just couldn't help himself. He climbed between her legs even though she struggled not to part them._

_He pried them open with his large paw like hands. He leaned in against her and began to kiss her roughly again. He rocked his groin against hers in an effort to create friction against his hardness. She felt it and snapped out of her pain induced daze. She began to claw at his face. He pushed himself off of her and grabbed her wrist, twisting it until it into an unnatural position, her scream adding fuel to the fire that began to burn in his groin the second he saw her at that store. _

_He pulled her up from the couch by her broken wrist causing her to cry out. He loved that sound._

_He pushed her into a wall. She leaned against it heavily._

"_You are so beautiful Bella. You don't have to worry; I would never leave a mark on your glorious face." Whiles he said this he stroked her face gently, a complete contradiction from what he had just done to her. He admired her body. It was covered in blood and scratches and giant bruises._

_He kissed her lips once more whiles kneading her breasts; he spread her legs with his knee and begun to slip it up the wall in an effort to raise her closer to his lips. _

_He groaned when he heard her whimper. All of a sudden he dropped her. He bent down and kissed her deeply until she was struggling for air once more. She parted her lips to breathe but Felix practically shoved his tongue down her throat, making her gag. He loved her taste and the gagging sound she made._

"_I want to hear you gag like that again, whiles I'm fucking your face." He sneered, his rotten breath made her want to vomit. "As eager as you look, I should go now. I will see you again Isabella."_

_Then he just disappeared. She looked at the grandfather clock in the corner. It was twenty after three. That was the longest three hours of her life. She saw headlights in the driveway, her father was here…_

Bella could hear the doctors around her, "Charging 400." She was still floating.

Alice felt faint as she heard the nurse declare that she was charging 400. Her vision began to tunnel and her ears were ringing. Just as she fell to the ground, having fainted, Bella's heart monitor sprung to life beeping evenly as if her life hadn't just left her for several minutes. Alice stayed conscious long enough to hear that sound, the sound that made her want to weep with joy for days on end.

But one thought went through her mind, _this isn't over_.

**A/N: Don't bug me if any of the medical stuff is wrong. I learned all I know from 'House' and reruns of 'ER'.**

…**stop laughing at me…Hugh Laurie is the shit.**

**Reviews are welcome…**


	2. Unrequited

**REPOST of the REPOST from last April (don't hit me): 1/22/2013**

**A/N: I really suggest re-reading the entire story as I update (this is to those of you who have read the original TMS). I've spent a lot of time tweaking and re-writing massive sections of this chapter, and even the rest of the story. I have changed quite a few things. Edward is...heheh…yeah, you'll see. And Bella is less angsty and more mature. Honestly, she was kind of pissing me off in the original version of this story :/ **

**I've also changed Edward's profession. It was originally just 'businessman', then it was 'realtor', but it was brought to my attention that there is another MobWard story out there where Eddie is a realtor. So I changed it from 'realtor' to 'something else' :]**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight. **

_**I'm the opposite of moderate**_

_**Immaculately polished**_

_**With the spirit of a hustler**_

_**And the swagger of a college kid**_

_**Allergic to the counterfeit**_

_**Impartial to the politics**_

_**Articulate, but still will**_

_**Grab a *~* by the collar quick**_

**T.I. – Live Your Life**

_Four years later…_

He stared into the stifling darkness of the Volturi warehouse. The musty odors of blood and damp darkness had him breathing quick and shallow breaths. He was trying to calm his racing heart. It was beating so loudly he felt like anyone could hear it echoing through the empty building.

He had a strange feeling building in his chest, spreading through to his abdomen. He didn't understand it. He had done this countless times before. _What's so different this time_, he thought, frustrated.

Emmett and Jasper pushed on through the darkness besides him, guns drawn and fingers resting against the barrel of their weapons.

He almost felt bad for them. Every day, when they went to 'work', they risked their lives. Edward didn't care about himself. He had no one waiting at home for him. But Emmett did. And so did Jasper.

He couldn't blame Emmett for stepping aside when the question of who would be the next Don had been presented. Emmett had satisfied his role as Carlisle's son and joined the organization, but that was as much as he was willing to do. If he had it his way, he would be owning and working in his own garage, fixing up cars, but he had an expectation to fulfill.

Even though he loved his brother and didn't blame him for not wanting to constantly put himself in harm's way, he thought him weaker for not being able to step up. He told himself that he understood the tremendous burden Emmett felt having Rosalie, the woman who completed his entire being, in constant danger.

But he could _never_ understand the irreparable damage caused by your soul mate feeling pain. Emmett knew firsthand about the desperate mind-numbing aguish, the unforgettable ripping sensation in his chest, the gaping hole that could only be filled with sorrow and regret and tears without _her_.

No, Edward could never understand unless he found that someone; that woman that made him delirious with need, happiness…_life_…

Edward still had much growing up to do, much maturing to do. He could never see himself holding back for a woman. His philosophy was that if she truly loved him she'd let him do what he pleased.

His selfishness truly knew no bounds.

Since his escape to Chicago, he had definitely become even harder headed.

Despite the fact that he had the emotional range of a teaspoon, he was a family man. He was the surrogate brother to members who had no family.

He was fair yet tough, judging only when evidence had been presented.

He was the Masen leader-in-training. He was someone you could always confide in. He was someone that was trusted. Anyone he had ever met knew that he would help them no matter the cost to himself.

He was completely selfless to his 'brothers' and made sure he was known as someone who was fair. But that selflessness, that brotherly affection was only one side of the complex structure that made up Edward. He didn't sacrifice his true self for the sake of others. He was a Cullen after all. Ruthless and domineering.

His only weakness rested with his sister. He was tall and muscular whereas she was short and thin. He was the alto to her soprano. She was too delicate and fragile, he thought. He was the protector and she was the protected. He made sure that he always separated his job from her. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if she were hurt, especially if it were because of him.

But then again, promising to never hurt someone is completely reckless. Pain, in _any_ kind of relationship, is completely unavoidable.

His strained relationship with Alice was proof enough of that.

His face twisted in disdain. He _hated_ Isabella Swan so much that moment. Because of her he hadn't been close to his sister in _years_.

_It's all her fucking fault Volturi did what he did. She can't fucking keep herself out of trouble_, he thought viciously.

He didn't like the girl and put sole blame of the aftermath of the 'incident' on her shoulders.

Alice had once asked him why he hated her so. This was well before _that_ night. But, Edward never gave her an answer.

Edward had nothing but perpetual respect for her father, a strong man who would kill anyone to protect the people he loved. Carlisle always cursed the fact that the Forks PD was able to recruit Charlie faster than he was.

His shoe made a squelching noise beneath him. Emmett snickered quietly when Edward cursed a low _'motherfucker'_. He didn't even want to look down to see what he stepped in.

He growled to himself before continuing his way through the mess that was the abandoned warehouse. "Fucking Carlisle," he cursed. Carlisle had the three canvassing all of the Volturi's previous warehouses and safe houses. For what reason? Carlisle had yet to reveal it.

Jasper hushed him, which earned him a harsh glare. He ignored Edward, knowing his unease would settle soon enough. He too could sense that something wasn't right. His senses had developed greatly due to the rigorous training he had to endure in one of the Masen training camps in the surrounding rural areas of Chicago. Four years earlier, he would never have known that something wasn't right. He would have burst into the place, trigger happy and anxious.

He didn't want to be a Masen, but he knew that to be with Alice, he had to be. Lucky for him, his great-grandfather was Irish so becoming a made man wasn't so hard. No. The hard part for Jasper was standing by and watching the brutality…the _inhumanity_ as his 'brothers' violated, robbed…_fucking slaughtered_ people for something as meaningless as _money_.

But Jasper couldn't bring himself to care _too _much. As long as he had Alice, he couldn't give two shits. He'd sell his soul all over again if he had to…and yes…he did sell his soul.

**OoO**

They pushed through the darkness, their guns still drawn in case of a happenstance squatter that would need taking care of. The loss of an unfortunate homeless man was overlooked if it meant protecting the organization from discovery.

The Masen was one of the few criminal organizations that had yet to come to the attention of law enforcement.

Edward tried to focus on the mission. This was his first in Seattle. He had just arrived a few days earlier in order to celebrate his birthday as well as the completion of his training. After four years, he had succeeded in the Masen as well as in his education, earning his degree at the University of Chicago, in architecture. He'd been asked, _many _times, what he did for a living and when he answered, the resounding reaction would be _'motherfucking no'_. He was _very _young, too young for anyone to believe him when he said what he did.

But he didn't care what other people thought. He had the will and means to make money _legally_ and hide his other business ventures from the IRS. He was doing something he loved and excelled at since high school.

He remembered talking to Alice the night before. She seemed willing to fix their relationship. This tentative phone call was hopefully the first of many.

However, Alice had the tendency to get drunk, which he greatly disapproved of. He hoped that Jasper would be able to calm her down some. She was just too _hyper_.

She had mumbled little snippets about Isabella's life, hoping to warm Edward's cold heart a little with news of the success she had made.

Apparently Isabella had majored in Classical music and Victorian literature at the University of Washington. She was one of the musicians that would be participating in the Seattle Music Festival. According to Alice, she was 'amazing'. He disregarded his sister's praise snidely.

He wanted nothing to do with Isabella. It wasn't like anything she did could change his mind about her. Once his mind was made up there was no stopping him. What he thought of Isabella would _never _change.

He sighed and continued on his way. They were closing in on a single door on the far left corner of the complex.

He felt the uneasiness creep up on him again. He just wanted to finish with the mission and go home so he could work on possibly trying to fix his relationship with Alice. But he knew that that would be next to impossible with Isabella there. She seemed to monopolize all of Alice's time.

Unfortunately for him, he would have to go with his family to see her perform in a couple of nights. That was something he was dreading, but he knew that eventually she would be shoved into his life once more. He just hated that it was so soon after he returned to Seattle.

Edward was suddenly thrust out of his thoughts by one of the most wretched smells he'd ever had the displeasure of encountering. Looking down, he realized that there were carcasses of dead rats lying everywhere. _Rat poison,_ he thought.

He hoped there wouldn't be any more surprises. The Volturi were very fond of bombs.

According to Carlisle the warehouse was supposedly empty but he wanted it checked out. The three men closed in on the singular door, opening it easily. They came upon a spiral stone staircase leading down to the basement of the complex.

A shiver ran up Edward's spine as they began their decent into the basement.

The same feeling came back to him. It was like the feeling of impending doom, like they were about to discover something horrifying.

They came upon a wooden door at the bottom of the staircase.

Edward who was the closest one to it motioned for Jasper and Emmett to step back.

He lifted his leg, and with a swift kick, the door was nothing but splinters of wood and metal on the cement floor. He fumbled around the wall looking for a light switch. When he found one, he flipped it up. Emmett, Jasper, and Edward then entered the room.

Emmett gasped as he looked around the room. Jasper ran his hand through his thick curly blond hair and whispered a harsh profanity. Edward's face became stoic as he looked around.

Every square inch of the room was covered. The walls, the ceilings, and the floor were all covered. What covered all of these surfaces were pictures. They were all of one person. Over and over and over again was one face.

Her face was everywhere and it made Edward ill; he assumed that it was because all he saw was her.

Isabella's face was plastered on every surface of the room.

"What…" Emmett began, but he didn't seem like he was in the right state of mind to speak.

"Felix," Jasper muttered. "Well I'm assuming it's him." It was after all an abandoned Volturi warehouse. When Jasper suggested that Felix Volturi may be after Bella again, Emmett stomach roiled. For some reason, even Edward felt a little ill. "These pictures have been taken over the course of the past four years." He pointed at one. "That one's from a concert she played in a couple years ago."

She was sitting in the orchestra, a beautiful smile on her delicate face.

It almost made Edward gag.

"Hasn't he done enough to the poor girl?" Emmett said roughly, shaking his head. Rosalie would flip when he told her.

"I guess we know what Carlisle was looking for," Jasper said as he wondered why Felix had been stalking Bella from afar. He'd already gone after her once, why hadn't he done it again? He wondered what Bella would do were she to find out.

Fleetingly, he thought of the many occasions Bella had suddenly left, whiles they were on a family outing. Could she already know? If she did, why hadn't she said anything?

Edward was already dialing his father's number.

"What did you find?" Carlisle sounded resigned as he tapped his pen on the deep mahogany desk he was seated at. His desk was piled high with folders of various patients.

He heard Edward sigh.

Edward carefully recounted what had happened and what they had found in the warehouse. He said that Jasper believed that it was Felix who had been following Isabella and taking pictures of her and that he may be after her again.

Carlisle was silent. He felt so guilty. He blamed himself for this. If he had never provoked Felix into seeking vengeance against him, Bella would never have caught his eye. She would never have become the object of his fantasies.

"Burn the place. Leave nothing but ashes." Carlisle said after he overcame the shock and pain of his horrifying new discovery. With that he hung up his phone, throwing it against the wall opposite him. It shattered into pieces at the impact. He swore under his breath, muttering about how he would now have to get a new one.

He placed his head in his hands and rubbed his face.

Carlisle could never be accused of being a bad father. He very easily compartmentalized everything. This made him a good doctor and an even better parent. When his children were younger and there were problems within the organization, he never let it affect his parenting. He never let it distract him from giving his children the father they deserved.

Although Bella was in grave danger, he knew dwelling on it was helping no one. He knew that being anything less than a caring doctor because he was worried about her would only upset her.

So when there was a knock on his office door, he calmed himself before yelling to the person to enter. When an extremely thin man walked in, weak and made only of skin and bones, and wearing the biggest smile Carlisle had ever seen, he couldn't help but feel pride. Not in himself, but in the man gingerly taking a seat before him. Prostate cancer was never kind.

Carlisle had stared down the barrel of a gun more than once and still made it out alive because of his quick acting. He would never, however, call himself brave, especially with a man like John Tanner in his presence.

Despite nearly dying on several occasions and more than a few relapses, John knew that maintaining a solid relationship with his family could only help him. At times, he felt like alienating them to save them from the horror of watching him waste away. But he knew that 'protecting' them was silly, as was making decisions for them when they were fully capable of doing that themselves.

Those were just things a person knows. No one had taught him. There wasn't some guide to proper etiquette when suffering from cancer. Some things are just instinctual. Logic played a big part as well.

It was because of both instinct and logic that Carlisle knew that reacting to Felix Volturi was exactly what was expected of him. Volturi was like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

So Carlisle would not react. He'd be the caring doctor he'd always been meant to be. He'd be the devoted father he'd always been. He'd be the ruthless businessman he'd become. And he would _not_ give in to Volturi.

Carlisle also, could never be accused of being subservient to _any_ man, no matter his power. But with Esme, however, that was a different story. Carlisle nearly shuddered as he thought about the one time he disagreed with her.

**OoO**

Edward stared at his phone shaking his head.

"He wants us to torch the place." Emmett and Jasper nodded. They made their way outside, where some Masen were. They gave the order to set the place on fire.

They got into their respective cars and drove to their apartment building once the warehouse was nothing but rubble.

Their apartment building towered over its neighboring skyscrapers. Since Carlisle owned it, he had rented out the top floor to his children. Jasper and Alice lived in an apartment at one end of the floor. Emmett and Rosalie lived at the other end of the floor. Edward lived in between them. They each had a personal elevator in the apartment, but there was also a public elevator in the hallway.

They bade each other goodnight as they took out their special elevator cards, each going to their own elevators.

Once inside, Edward leaned against the elevator wall and loosened his tie. He was tense. He assumed that it was just the left over adrenaline from the fruitless search of the warehouse.

He didn't consider the 'find' an important one.

The elevator _dinged_ at his floor and the heavy brass doors opened to his foyer. He looked to his left and made sure his front door was locked. He didn't want some Italian nutcase breaking into his apartment to attempt to kill him. Said nutcase wouldn't get a chance because Edward was six foot four and over two hundred pounds of frightening muscle.

He entered his bedroom and shed his suit, kicking off his shoes. He pushed his Colt beneath his pillow before falling asleep, suddenly wishing the space beside him wasn't empty.

**OoO**

The floor was cold beneath her feet as she carefully climbed down the stairs. She made it to her living room and looked around, relieved that no one seemed to be hiding in the darkness.

Suddenly a sweaty hand grabbed her wrist. She screamed as she was pulled against the body of a large male. She kicked at his legs as he spun her around.

He was stronger though. He held her still, cupping her face with one of his large hands. "Scream again." He whispered, "I love it when you scream." His breath fanned across her face. He licked the smooth milky white skin of her neck.

"_God_ you taste so good," he whimpered, harshly rubbing against her.

He kept going and going and going until he was inside her, with his hands around her neck and a sadistic grin on his face.

She was jolted awake by the sound of her bedroom door slamming open. She was sobbing. Quick and jolted cries burst from her chest.

Her neighbor clamored about the room looking for the light switch as Bella continued to weep, terrified of her mind and the horrors it conjured up.

"Shhh, shhh, Bella it's alroight," Keeva, her neighbor soothed.

Born in Ireland, her speech was convoluted by her accent: her disjointed words, and her unfamiliar profanities.

Her necklace jingled as she moved to sit on the bed, careful not to touch Bella. "No one's gonna 'urt ya deery. Just one of them terrible noightmares, no?" Bella's sobs began to fade and soon she was only whimpering, listening to Keeva's soft voice until she drifted off again.

Keeva played with her necklace a bit. She looked down at the Celtic Triquetra pendant that hung from her neck. Behind it, in tiny gothic styled letters, her name was carved intricately into the metal. Her name was Caoimhe, but strangely it was pronounced as "Keeva." So that was what people knew her as. Keeva was easier to spell and far less complicated to sound out whiles reading.

She sighed looking at the clock. She didn't hate her job. She was paid quite well for it, and was given free room and board. She had grown to like Bella extremely well, so that made her job easier.

Bella didn't know that Keeva was actually a member of the Masen or that it was her job to save her from her nightmares. Carlisle assigned her to wake Bella up in case something happened. It was a strange job, she had thought at first, but now, four years later she dreaded these moments but fulfilled her duty, knowing it was necessary…for Bella's sake.

Carlisle had been terrified one night, when Bella had slept over at the Cullen's house after the attack. He was awakened by high pitched screams, coming from Alice. Bella had a panic attack as she slept and had begun to seize.

She had to be hospitalized for another week, partly because she had bitten her tongue during her seizure and had lost several ounces of blood, and partly because they feared she was suicidal.

Bella was curled into herself on one side of the bed. Keeva carefully climbed to the other side of the bed, crawling underneath the covers, quickly falling asleep.

She woke up a little after seven. She got up and made breakfast for Bella, leaving it on the stove. She left a note for her, demanding that she ate before slipping out into the dank hallway. She wrinkled her nose as a foul smell drifted up her nostrils. She wondered why Americans had to be so disgusting. It smelled like a urinal in the hallway.

She almost missed the clean fresh air of her home back in Ireland. Almost. She'd never go back there. She'd be forced to marry the overweight bloke her brother insisted she was meant for. She almost snorted at the thought, remembering him telling her that he was rich and could care for her. He just wanted to bleed the poor sap dry! He'd never had any concern for her except when he needed some of the meager inheritance her parents left for her when they died.

He always did have a gambling problem. She shook her head and entered her apartment. She was glad to be rid of him. The Masen was her family now and she was glad that she had someone to care for.

Although she never did like to admit it, she was the type of person who had a natural maternal instinct. Keeva referred to Bella as the little sister she never wanted. However, they both knew the truth. To Keeva, as long as Bella was safe, all would be right in the world.

She flopped down on her couch, trying to plot out her day.

She would have to check in with Carlisle, who was regularly monitoring Bella's nightmares. They seemed to get worse the longer she was away from Alice or Emmett, or even Rosalie. The latter was extremely surprising considering the blond girl's unfortunate demeanor.

Carlisle had offered to buy Bella her own apartment closer to Alice and the others, but she had declined, wanting to make it on her own. She would never admit to herself that she was trying to prove Edward wrong. She wasn't using Alice.

Keeva sighed and looked at the clock on the wall; it was almost half past eight. Carlisle would be awake. She reached for her phone and dialed the familiar number, waiting two rings before she heard a gruff, yet familiar, "Speak."

**OoO**

Bella woke up later in the day. As usual she was embarrassed about the fact that Keeva had to basically mother her. It felt wrong to her. She had always cared for herself, since her early childhood, up until she moved in with her father.

She sighed unhappily as she dragged herself out of bed, pulling her legs over the side. She sat stock still before stretching each limb out slowly. She didn't want to give herself a muscle cramp. She rubbed her wrist, which had been irritating her more than usual as of late, as she walked to the kitchen.

Her mind drifted back to Keeva as she plated her breakfast of poached eggs, buttered toast, and _rashers_. Keeva constantly corrected her when she would call it fried ham. It wasn't a bloody fried ham, she would admonish indignantly.

They had become fast friends when she moved in, laughing and talking with each other as they lugged their boxes up the stairs since the lift had been broken.

Bella never said anything about the coincidence of them moving in the same day. She also never questioned how Keeva seemed to know about what went on in her nightmares. Keeva never asked what was wrong. It was like she knew not to. Bella never questioned how Keeva knew that touching her was not an option. She never questioned how Keeva had gotten the key to Bella's apartment. Her subconscious somehow knew that she was Masen, but it seemed as if she enjoyed being unobservant to it. She didn't want to know, so she didn't ask.

She quickly ate her breakfast and looked over at her piano. It was a Yamaha electric piano. Next to it was her violin, electric violin, and her fiddle.

She had saved up for a year in order to buy them from the second hand shop down by the Sound. She used the meager pay she received from a waitressing job frugally, only eating when her stomach began to make death threats. Alice had offered to help but Bella declined her offer. She didn't want Edward to have another reason to hate her.

Alice had finally worked up the courage to admit to Bella that Edward hated her. Bella told her that half a bottle of Patron had been wasted for no reason. She already knew of Edward's dislike of her.

But she wanted to know the why behind his madness. When she asked Alice, she barely had time to respond with an incomprehensible grumble that sounded like 'I dunno' before she was reliving her last few hours with the smooth clear liquid tequila as it emptied from her stomach along with chunks of her breakfast_… oh yeah… it hadn't even been noon yet._

Bella thought it was utterly ridiculous that Edward felt so strongly about her. She had eventually come to the conclusion that Edward must have thought that she was after the Cullen's money. She snorted at the thought. She loved Alice like a sister. She'd never hurt her, especially for _money_.

Alice's friendship was worth way more than that. She would give her life for her best friend. She could feel herself getting angrier as she thought about how pompous Edward was to assume anything about her. He didn't know her. He's never even made the effort to.

She grumbled to herself as she washed her dishes, grimacing because of the tears building in her eyes. She hated getting angry because then she cried. And it was hard to yell at someone through the baseball sized lump that always formed in her throat when she was crying.

She sat down at her piano. The keys were weighted which helped when she switched to the grand piano in the concert hall during practice. The Seattle Music Festival was the next day and she had to practice all she could. She couldn't afford to make a mistake.

Edward would be there, analyzing every little thing she did wrong and would then point it out. He's always done that, smiling at her with that smug little smirk on his face. She wouldn't try to defend herself against him. He always found a way to antagonize her with her own words.

She remembered once, she had made a mistake regarding the history of conquistadors in Latin America. He had immediately jumped at the chance to make her feel stupid. And he did. She remembered the way her face flamed as he 'educated' her on the Spaniards arrival to the New World.

Tears had filled her eyes as he continued his teasing. She saw something there, in his eyes, right before she had spun around and ran away from him. It was a hint of sorrow and pain. She had cried more because of it, wondering what caused that look in his eyes.

She hadn't done anything to him. She'd never lashed out at him like he had done so many times at her. She hadn't done anything to warrant such a look from him. It was a look that one who had lost someone dear to them would have.

She never voiced what she thought to Emmett or Alice, fearing Edward finding out. He did scare her terribly.

Alice had once told Bella to go into Edward's room and find his Chemistry textbook so she could do her homework. She wanted to at least attempt to do it, in an effort to appease both her teacher and her mother. When Edward stormed in just as her fingers finally reached the book – which was located almost two feet above her head on the bookshelf – she started and jolted the shelf. All of his books and CDs fell to the floor with a _crash_. Alice came waddling in seconds later, toenails still wet, trying to convince Edward not to throw Bella out the window.

He'd been very close to doing it, too.

She had figured out a long time ago that she should leave it alone, but she wanted so much to just tell him off… beat him at his own game. It was a _cruel_ game.

She's seen him around Alice, so calm. He was fiercely protective of her and indulged her love of humanity, constantly buying her pretty little bobbles that meant something even deeper than it seemed.

Her love of humanity was, after all, what had attracted her to Alice in the first place. She had an extraordinary ability to make you feel at ease and as if you'd never be lonely again.

She was terribly lonely when she arrived in Forks.

But Edward… he couldn't seem to realize the fragility of the human condition. His words and actions towards her always cut her deeper each time he uttered or did something to spite her. He was only this way with her. Never with anyone else. She most definitely wouldn't have stood for it if he treated Alice, or anyone else for that matter, the way he treats her. She saw no reason for it. She had never said a bad word about him, or defended herself when he would say something especially scathing.

She realized that she had been pounding out scales on the poor white and black keys of her baby with unnecessary force. She stopped herself before she did something unfortunate and drastic to her piano.

She suddenly wondered if he was any different or if the Masen training just made him even more antagonistic. She hoped it was the former instead of the latter. Maybe they could try to be friends. She realized that she should look forward to meeting him the next night she shouldn't dread it. It could be a whole new beginning.

With new found hope, she placed her hands on her piano and started to play. The notes were floating together beautifully. There were no gaps between each note, everything flowing like a stream, gently curving around each bend. Each crescendo was perfectly executed and the diminuendo and ritardando at the end gave the song an airy almost intangible feel.

She moved to her fiddle. The songs she played had an Irish undertone to it. She was sure that Carlisle would love it.

She played through all the songs, twice, before feeling fulfilled that she has done the best she could. She wondered what Edward would think. Perhaps he'd compliment her playing, telling her that she did wonderfully. Maybe he'd even apologize for the way he was back in high school.

She felt almost giddy. She couldn't wait to see him.

It was around midnight and Bella was dozing on the windowsill in her living room when the Nutcracker Suite echoed off of the walls of her tiny apartment.

Her cell phone was ringing.

Bella picked up with a, "Hey."

"Belly-bean!" Alice drunkenly slurred. No matter what, Alice always called Bella before going to bed. "I was just calling to make sure you're alright."

Bella knew what she meant. Alice was calling to make sure that Bella wasn't unconscious on the floor dying or something.

She rolled her eyes. "Yes Alice, I'm fine. How was the party? I'm sorry I couldn't make it." She had been lying through her teeth when she told Alice that she couldn't go to her birthday party. Instead, she claimed that she needed to practice some more. In truth, she had been frightened to see Edward again. But now, she had nothing but bright hopes for the next day.

"It was good. I know you were practicing, so don't worry about it." She giggled. "But are you sure you're okay?" Alice pressed.

The news her father told her earlier weighed heavily on her mind. Her worry for Bella was reaching monumental levels and she couldn't think of anything short of shipping her off to somewhere in Fiji in order to protect her from Volturi.

Bella sighed, grateful for Alice's concern, but slightly upset that no one believed that she could take care of herself. "I'll be fine, Alice," she said in a whisper.

Alice's face twisted with uncertainty. "Ok, sweetheart." She sighed again. "Look I'm about to pass out. I'll see you at the concert hall tomorrow okay?"

Bella hoped Alice wouldn't be too hung over the next day. She had to dress and make over dozens of musicians for the Festival.

"Sure. I love you."

"Love you too. Bye, honey." Alice hung up with yet another sigh.

Bella went to bed, for once feeling hopeful about the next day. She prayed for the nightmares to leave her be for one night, before she drifted off, thinking even more of the next day.

**A/N: *rashers - it's basically fried ham ;)**

**My computer is really stupid. '10 percent battery remaining…find a power source' meh! I've got freakin 35 minutes left!**

**I named him Sheryl. She doesn't appreciate it. I know I'm referring to my computer as both a male and a female. They're bisexual. Did that make sense? No? Good.**

**So…I really want to know what you guys think so far. Is it bad? Is it good? Let me know by clicking that linky thing right… *points toward bottom of screen*… there :)**Top of FormBottom of Form


	3. Hiatus Updates

**UPDATE:** **6/8/2011**

**As some of you know – those who've read the original version of The Mobster's Son – a little over a year ago, my maternal grandmother passed away. I had gone back to my home country and laid her to rest – taking a short hiatus as well.**

**Unfortunately, I feel the need to take yet **_**another **_**hiatus. A couple of months ago, my great grandfather – to whom I was very close to – had passed away. He was a prominent religious figure in my home country and was very well loved and respected.**

**Earlier this evening, my paternal grandmother passed away. What had started a breast cancer two years ago had grown into lung cancer, liver cancer, and bone cancer. Even though I should have been well prepared, her death felt sudden to me.**

**I haven't been able to see her because she has been in a hospice, and my immune system isn't exactly in tip-top shape.**

**My grandmother was lived a hard life but somehow made it to this very special country. She is one of the reasons I have an actual future ahead of me.**

**She had only one name like Madonna, Cher, and Prince.**

**Bissoondai, you will be greatly missed.**

**Also, many complications have arisen due to my arthritis. I can no longer lift my arms and my Rheumatologist has found bone spurs on my hip bone.**

**I am very sorry to have to inform you that I will be taking my leave from FFN for a while – at least until I can sort out my thoughts. As you can tell, I have a lot on my plate, and not the best luck imaginable.**

**I can assure you though; this hiatus will**_**not**_**result in me permanently leaving FFN. I'm already working on an entirely new version of chapter 3 of TMS and I am half-way done with the next chapters of Mockingbird and The Color of Freedom.**

**I have posted this update on all my stories, so don't think I'll be favoring one over the other.**

**Please be patient. There is only so much stress I can take and I don't really want to go into my heart problems right now.**

**So…yeah…I've said my peace.**

…**I'll see you guys later…**

* * *

**UPDATE:****12/29/2011**

**I am sincerely grateful that I have such amazing and understanding readers such as you. I thank you all for sticking it out for me. Your words of kindness and support bring me overwhelming joy, especially in such hard times.**

**It is not with happiness that I bring more news. December 5th****of this month, I lost my great-grandmother. She was very important to me, having taken care of me so much as a younger child. Her husband had passed earlier this year and I guess that she felt as if it was her time.**

**Also, I am now using a crutch to help me walk because my arthritis is becoming increasingly uncooperative. I've begun a series of different treatments since my last update. First the anti-inflammatories (which I am still on), muscle-relaxers, steroids, and now I take shots to help suppress my immune system…My doctor is certain that my JRA will follow me into adulthood and for this I worry about my future.**

**However, during my time away from FFN, I've realized that writing helps me cope with everything going on in my life.**

**I will begin to update all of my stories within the next few days. I'm thinking that the new year is very appropriate for my want…no**_**need**_**of a fresh start. I am an extremely optimistic person and I'm very willing to leave all the sadness of this year behind me.**

**I hope you all will have a very happy New Year.**

**I'll see you guys soon…**

**..**


	4. Metranome

**RE-POST:**** 1/22/2013**

**IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: Please read…**

**Your kindness never cease to amaze me, my lovelies. Thank you again for all of you words of encouragement.**

**I have re-written this chapter in its entirety. I've also decided to add chapters in between the current ones as I felt as if the original version of TMS was partly unsatisfactory to me because it moved too fast.**

**I would love to hear some feedback from you guys, and as you know, I vehemently abhor rudeness. I wouldn't have put this up – changes and all – if I didn't believe it was better than the original. But, I'll leave you guys to judge as well as remain respectful. **

**And since I wasn't really happy with Chapter 2, I've re-re-edited it… :D**

**I wrote this chapter as if the train station were in NYC. I don't know what the train station in Seattle looks like…or if there are more than one *shrugs***

**ALSO, umm, about wanting to read the original TMS…I'm not exactly the smartest cookie. You see, I've been editing and rewriting TMS from the original word documents, so there aren't originals to speak of anymore. *winces* So…take this chapter as an apology…? No? Okay…*crawls into a hole and rocks back and forth* I'M FREAKIN SORRY!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.**

She woke with a start, feeling as if her heart was in her throat. _That was new_.

She'd never have such a vivid nightmare before. It felt so _real_… as if _he_ was actually splitting her in half from the inside and not through the conventional orifice either.

Keeva was standing at the foot of her bed, an inquisitive look on her face. She remained silent as Bella fell backwards into her pillows with a whimper – exhaustion overtaking her as the adrenaline rush faded.

Keeva was frustrated with herself. She was there to protect Bella from her own nightmares and the reactions they caused, but she felt as if she was failing, especially since every night, Bella would wake in a cold sweat with a scream lodged in her throat.

Keeva climbed into the bed, making sure not to touch Bella, who was already falling asleep – her fingers twitching and a grimace on her face as she awaited her torment.

The next time she woke, Keeva was gone and the smells sausages, scrambled eggs, and toast hung heavy in the air. She sat up in her bed, stretching each of her limbs and rotating her wrist a few times. It was hurting more than the day before.

She stood carefully, making her way to the kitchen, flicking on every light along the way. She hated being alone in the dark.

Her apartment had always been dreadfully dark. Two larger buildings flanked each side, blocking out any hope for any of the meek sunlight the heavy cloud cover allowed through.

A knock on her door brought her attention to the time. A rather impatient older gentleman requested her concert violin in order to repair any scratches or such blemishes in time for the concert later that evening. After he had gone, she threw some clothes on quickly and grabbed her electric violin.

She was meeting her boys down at the train station.

**OoO**

He found himself wandering the streets of Seattle. It was horribly gloomy and the thunder clouds on the horizon gave no indication of letting up. Soon the entire city would be drenched. Well, more so than usual.

He headed downtown, towards the train station.

Edward had had some business to discuss with Jasper the night prior and he had ended up staying over the night, if only to talk to Alice a little more.

She was finally opening up to him. Though she had at first said that it was four years too late to try to fix things, she eventually warmed to the idea. She didn't relish the fact that they were estranged from each other, so she was doing her best to give him another chance. One definitely couldn't call it a second chance, or a third. It was more like chance number five hundred to Alice. He had had too many opportunities to right his wrongs, but he never took initiative and actually _did_ that.

But since he had been trying so hard since he returned from Chicago, Alice could not deny him.

They talked about anything and everything long into the night. Alice had even told him that there were these young musicians trying to make a start for themselves down in the cavernous metropolis beneath Seattle's sidewalks. He thought he'd check them out but keep vigilant as he was at it. He had caught the mischievous look in her eyes as she told him about it.

That morning she had been nursing her hangover with a cup of hot coffee as Edward tried to make as much noise as possible. After getting fed up, she'd kicked his ass out of her apartment.

Edward, having nothing to do until later that afternoon, decided to see if the group of musicians would be there and if they were worth all the hype Alice was giving them.

**OoO**

The train station always amazed him. Its large stone pillars and the ornate stone carvings made it a great tourist attraction. He pushed past a group of people on a tour of the city and made his way inside, just as the heavens opened up.

He chuckled to himself as he heard the helpless gasps of those still on the steps outside the train station. They had begun to whine about how their trip was now _completely _ruined because of a little drizzle. _Tourists_.

He could hear the strong pulsing of an orchestral beat. He made his way towards the noise, coming upon the group of four.

A tiny girl, hidden behind her hood, led the group with a wild yet elegant violin solo to which twin cellists played a harmony to. The bass player – a lanky boy with a ridiculous as well as intriguing love of body modification – provided a steady twanging that acted as a sort of metronome for the rest of the group.

The girl was incredibly fascinating. Her fingers flew across the fingerboard of her violin with the precision of a professional; of someone whose entire life, heart, and soul thrummed with the sounds of music.

He thought her extremely talented and fleetingly wondered what the hell she was doing playing in a train station when she should be on a magnificent stage with the greats.

Saying she was belonged amongst the likes of famous Classical composers was not such a stretch. Her music was fiery and wrought with emotion much like Beethoven's. As he listened to her a bit more, he was struck by how she was as proficient at the violin as Schubert – another great – was.

His heart pounded in his chest along with the thundering melody she was violently pulling from the tiny but powerful strings of her violin.

He quickly found a free bench on the opposite side of the large hall, took a seat, and pulled a small sketchpad from his back pocket.

He had resolved himself to try to get into the habit of using his art to express himself, but he knew that forcing creativity wasn't exactly the healthiest thing to do. He had stopped sketching and painting about four years prior.

He didn't know why, or how, but he had lost his usually unstoppable will to create something beautiful out of nothing at all. He had just woken up one day, several weeks after his high school graduation, and couldn't find it in himself to make a single thing that even hinted of creativity.

A close family friend of the Cullen's – who also happened to be a psychiatrist – explained to Edward that his creativity was like a mighty redwood. It had taken root inside of him from the very _beginning_ and has since matured and grown. But something had happened to cause an immense wall to form. That wall was blocking the sunlight that nurtured growth, and that was why Edward could no longer create.

Though the concept put Edward's problem in a nutshell, it was still quite difficult for him to understand. He repeatedly denied having anything in his past that would have stirred him so greatly.

Eleazar was skeptical to say the least.

Although Edward wouldn't readily admit feeling guilty to himself or anyone else for that matter, Eleazar could clearly see it etched into the young man's face. This guilt was so great that it was smothering Edward _and_ his creativity. It was sitting on his chest like a sleeping bear. Soon, it would wake up and all hell would break loose.

Eleazar unfortunately had seen firsthand just how destructive Edward could be. This…this _demon_ inside of him, this awful god-forsaken memory or event…_what-have-you_ would certainly tear him apart if he didn't acknowledge it…if he didn't acknowledge that this guilt, this demon, was suppressing his artistic nature…that it would destroy him…

Edward seemed to have gotten more reclusive than before after a very loud, very angry visit he received from Alice whiles he was in Chicago.

Eleazar had heard the entire fight, though not on purpose.

Also, it was not necessarily a fight since Edward just stood there and took it whiles Alice released a destructive fury that was quite similar in likeness to a derailing train.

That seemed to be very common among the Cullen's.

The one-sided argument was about a certain Isabella Swan's condition in the ICU of Seattle's Swedish Medical Center. Apparently she had been air lifted there after the surgeons at Forks General were able to resuscitate her after her unsavory encounter with Felix Volturi.

Eleazar heard as Alice ran through a very long list of her injuries and put the sole blame of the incident on Edward's shoulders. He had thought to himself, _so _that's_ what Edward feels so guilty about_.

Eleazar tried to make Edward see that the guilt stemmed from the incident in Forks, but Edward refused to believe it. He vehemently denied caring even one _iota_ about the girl.

Unfortunately, Edward's falling out with Alice had sunken him into an even deeper pit in which he couldn't find a way out of. Eleazar's words were forced to the back of his mind as his depression grew.

This so-called 'falling out' was never spoken of again, considering how drunk she had been.

**OoO**

He suddenly found himself surprised when he felt the familiar impulse to grasp a broken piece of charcoal between his thumb and forefinger and feel it drag across the bumpy surface of his sketchbook.

In a matter of minutes he had sketched a rough drawing of _her_ face – the shy violinist who looked inordinately like someone he had resigned himself to forget a long time before and who had suddenly been thrust back into his life.

His subconscious attempted to knock some sense into him, trying to get him to remember that Isabella had had a knack for quickly picking up musical talents and it was entirely possible that the ridiculously talented girl several hundred feet across the great hall of the train station could very well be the girl he had loathed since the discovery of her existence and her befriending Alice.

The song ended far sooner than he would have liked and so did the spare time he had found himself earlier that morning. He needed to return to his apartment before Alice had a fit about the inappropriate use of the very expensive watch in his possession as merely something pretty to look at and not something he used often. There was no use delaying himself since meeting _her_ again was bound to happen, and he'd rather not ruin his progress with Alice for something that was inevitable.

The shy violinist was hurriedly packing her violin away anyways. For a brief moment, he wondered what the hell she had done to it. There were massive holes through the thing and it seemed as if only a hard, swirly, plastic outline remained. Also, it was bright yellow, like a school bus.

Then his mind returned to his sister and he quickly made his way out of the train station.

**OoO**

Over the course of the last four years, Bella had become especially adept at detecting people who were watching her with an immoderate amount of intensity.

She always knew that he followed her around but it was exponentially more disturbing that she had developed the ability to sense him. Determined not to let her boys be in any more danger than they already were, she quickly finished her song up and packed up. She knew that she was being selfish by continuously returning to the train station and to _them_ just because she needed the release.

The boys watched her hurry but made no attempt to ask what was wrong, since it would clearly only delay her when she needed to make a quick escape.

They had always felt and had later come to know that something especially sinister was behind her distressed and sometimes utterly frightful escapes.

They had only broached the topic once with her.

They didn't see her for nearly three months afterwards.

She quickly made her way to her train, which dropped her off about a block from the concert hall. She entered through the back and left her electric violin with the grouchy repairman that had come to her apartment earlier in the day to pick up her concert instrument. His cantankerous bearing did not affect her decision to leave her instruments with him.

Like her, he did not tolerate the mistreatment of musical devices no matter how big or small.

**OoO**

Alice was scurrying around the dressing rooms, trying her best not to reach for the nearly empty flask she kept in the back pocket of her old khakis that had been cut off at the knee. She also kept a spare flask in the little crevice between her feet and her oversized brown loafers, but that was only for a dire emergency.

Bella sat down quickly and allowed herself to be poked, prodded, and primped to perfection for nearly two hours. Alice then shoved a navy blue garment bag into her hands and shooed her off to the nearest corner where she could change.

Alice then moved on to help the rest of the performers, who had watched with disdain as Alice had focused solely on Bella for two hours. They felt as if favoritism of the part of the makeup artist and costume director – Alice – was the only reason Bella looked exceptionally more beautiful than they did.

It apparently had _nothing_ to do with the sour expressions on their faces and the bitter mood they were in. Bella noticed some animosity but played it off as nervousness on their part. She definitely got a little snappy as large performances approached.

Besides, the other performers didn't know of her preference of not being touched. Alice was the one exception, only because she trusted her best friend not to hurt her. She knew it was irrational and foolish to react so strongly to another person's touch, but it was just one of the many other things in her life that she couldn't help.

**OoO**

Emmett was pacing as discretely as he possibly could in the lobby of the concert hall. The 'lobby' was indeed magnificent. Great pillars of gold and tan marble spanned the length. Benches were separated by large arrangements of wildflowers. The lobby was extremely decadent and definitely satisfied the tastes of the upper class philanthropists who would be in attendance of the Seattle Music Festival.

Emmett knew that they merely wished to brag to their golf buddies and book club attendees about how much they had donated to and supported this charity organization or that.

Emmett huffed and pulled at his bow tie, greatly uncomfortable in his tuxedo. Rosalie admonished him with a swift kick to his shin and a glare. Thankfully, no one had noticed her particularly strange method of making him behave.

He wanted to be anywhere but there. They only reason he _was_ there was because Bella needed support, especially since her father couldn't make it to Seattle to see her performance.

He began to tug at his bow tie again.

Rosalie slapped his hands away, whispering fiercely, "What the _hell_ is the matter with you?"

"I'm fucking _bored_, Ro!" he had whined.

She glared at him and looked back at the entrance doors. The only one who had yet to show up was Edward, though that was hardly a surprise.

Eventually – through the bustle of laughing people and waiters with precariously placed champagne flutes upon their silver trays – she saw a head of bronze hair moving closer to them.

One hardly needed closer inspection to see the brilliant scowl on his face. She clicked her tongue disapprovingly. Emmett smoothed a hand over her elbow in warning, knowing of Rosalie's dislike of his brother. He had to live with it however. She had made him a promise that her view of Edward wouldn't interfere with their relationship. However, she was still entitled to her opinions.

She was not one to break promises, no matter the circumstance – especially one as menial as the brooding younger brother of her long-time boyfriend.

She shrugged away from Emmett and folded her arms across her chest with a huff – quietly humming Beethoven's Funeral March to herself. If Emmett heard her, he made no inclination, instead walking forward to meet his surly brother…as well as warn him that Rosalie wasn't in the best of moods, unaware that Rosalie was right behind him.

She hummed in his ear. "Don't tell me I can scare the big, bad mafia king." She was haughtily admiring her perfectly manicured nails, well aware of the stiffening of Emmett's spine. "You may take your foot out of your mouth, dear," Rosalie said in the calmest of voices to Emmett.

She smiled wryly to herself and offered no further greeting to Edward. She didn't offer the false pretense of her usual sickly sweet smile, instead leaning more towards glowering at Edward.

"It's always lovely to see you, Rosalie. I didn't realize they've let you out of your padded cell," Edward offered with an almost convincing touch of concern.

Her lips twisted into a sneer before she turned and stormed off, towards the nearest source of alcohol. "Can't you two just get along?" Emmett grumbled tiredly as he turned to follow after her.

A small yet sturdy hand gripped Edward's bicep. He looked down. "Mother," he acknowledged.

A smile played at her lips as it usually did when he addressed her so impersonally. His temper would have gotten the best of him by now and he would have declared this occasion – one that was supposed to be a reconciliation of sorts between the strained relationships centered on the Cullen family – a complete load of bullshit and stormed off.

But today, he was at least making an effort at civility though his voice had become strained with anger. His manner was in no better condition, as he was as stiff as a board.

He normally had no qualms about declaring his opinions, so it was a step forward in that Edward hadn't called Rosalie a cold-hearted bitch upon his immediate arrival.

Carlisle had merely stood back through the 'greetings' and suppressed his amusement for the sake of his wife's sanity. Jasper – as usual – remained stoic in the face of confrontation, trying not to betray his true distaste for it.

Carlisle certainly didn't need to be aware of his true nature. It would likely land him in a very cold freezer with a bullet in his head. Carlisle didn't take kindly to being misled.

Esme continued to fuss over Edward as she hadn't seen him in a while. This continued even during the increasingly heated phone conversation Carlisle was involved in. He was pinching the bridge of his nose, trying not to crush his new cell phone despite his anger.

He muttered something about 'incompetence' before looking at Jasper and calling Edward to attention. "It seems as if one of our drivers decided that he wasn't appreciative of the benefits he received from working for us." He was speaking as if this 'driver' was their chauffeur, but Jasper and Edward knew better.

They raised their eyebrows in question.

"Mr. Biers saw fit to let him go, but the young man refuses to go without his last _paycheck_."

A woman nearby who'd heard Carlisle scoffed, put out. "It's so hard to find good help these days." With a posh roll of her eyes at Carlisle's supposed predicament, she returned her attentions to her martini and her impatient looking, _much younger_, date.

Edward's lips tipped up as he realized an opportunity had arisen to escape from this mockery of a family reunion and release some pent up frustration. "Seeing as Mr. Biers doesn't have access to our account, I should probably return home to pay the young man."

He spoke with ease but his father knew him well. "Emmett could always go," Carlisle suggested.

"Really, Dad, I _insist_. No need to ruin anyone else's night."

Carlisle's jaw ticked but he granted his youngest son reprieve, realizing that if he released some of his anger before Bella were to be reintroduced into his life, it might save her a few tears.

With a small nod, Carlisle released Edward who disappeared into the crowd with the eagerness of a puppy.

"Everything alright, dear?" Esme asked, concerned by Edward's sudden departure.

"Just fine, _Aim__é_," he replied with a sweet kiss to her lips.

Looking up and finding an awkward looking Jasper, shuffling his feet and staring hard at the tan marble beneath his shoes, he then remembered their predicament.

"Jasper, I believe there is something we must discuss," Carlisle said with a pointed look. Emmett and Rosalie returned just then. Noting the pink flush to her cheeks, Esme surmised they must have made up from their little quarrel. "You as well, Emmett," Carlisle continued before walking away towards the exit.

Jasper and Emmett quickly followed him through the crowd.

"What's happened?" Rosalie asked.

Esme chuckled uneasily, and replied with a flippant, "A work related quandary. Nothing to worry about, my dear."

Rosalie rolled her eyes at Esme's discomfort with discussing the Cullens' _work_, but she wrapped her arm around Esme's waist and led her to a small alcove with a cozy looking bench, on which they could sit and wait until the theater doors opened and they were allowed up to their reserved box.

Outside, Carlisle had led Jasper and Emmett to a narrow alleyway down the block from the Concert Hall. Once sure of their privacy, Carlisle relayed the information Riley Biers had given him.

One of the young men they used to help them traffic drugs from Mexico to the United States had decided that it wouldn't be terribly abhorrent to attempt to make off with 20 kilos of Masen cocaine in the trunk of the small but tough black Mercedes he drove.

With the way the Masen sold their cocaine, the young man owed them just over a quarter of a million dollars worth of his life.

It was too bad for him that his life wasn't worth that much to them.

Carlisle could tell that by the end of his explanation for where Edward had gone, Emmett was attempting to hide his amusement from his father and failing miserable; quite a few snorts had already escaped him.

Jasper didn't see any humor in the matter. Was Edward's hate for Bella so strong that he would rather spend several hours torturing a young man – who, from the sound of it, was barely out of his teens – instead of watching what sounded like a wonderful performance? He shook his head as if to clear it. He didn't understand the Cullens, and he wasn't so sure that he ever would.

Carlisle suddenly wondered if Edward orchestrated the whole thing to get out of attending the Festival, but the thought was quickly set aside for later perusal when he realized the time. Quickly guiding Jasper and Emmett back to the Concert Hall, he made sure to mask his face of his worries.

There was no need to make Esme agitated or Rosalie for that matter.

Alice would understand as she was more involved with the inner workings of the Masen than the rest of her family – besides her father – realized. Even Jasper wasn't aware of how much she could be implicated in were the Masen to ever really be noticed by the authorities.

**OoO**

By the end of the concert, the tension of the small box high up in the theater was reaching climactic levels. Somehow, the fact that Edward wasn't there became an even bigger issue to Rosalie than when he was. However, the fact that he was gone seemed to be better according to the rest of the Cullens.

After looking rather uncertain, Jasper finally stated his opinion that despite his sessions with Eleazar, Edward wasn't getting any better at facing his demons.

This resulted in an awkward silence for the duration of the show and they were all too stubborn to step up and break it.

As they waited in the lobby, Emmett resumed his pacing and tugged some more on his bow tie. When Alice showed up, she immediately wished she could just spin right back around and leave the lot of them to their own devices.

She didn't need Bella to be stressed as she certainly would be when she slammed into the wall of tension that was so thick around the Cullens you wouldn't be able to break through it with a stick of dynamite and a bazooka.

But Alice stayed her stride because unfortunately for her, she had already been spotted.

She approached them with trepidation, feeling the thick tension clash with the light buzz of her slightly drunken state. She desperately wished to rekindle that buzz but she had changed into a cream colored layered chiffon dress that held no pockets for her flask. Also, the small clutch she carried was too small for the size of flask she was imagining at the moment.

Quite honestly though, it didn't look as if she had dressed with the thought of a fancy social function in mind. It looked as if she should be running about an enchanted forest chasing fairies. Saying nothing, Jasper pulled her tiny body to his, immediately feeling calmer.

He'd never told her, but she'd figured out for herself that Jasper was absolutely petrified of her family.

She simply pressed her palm to his chest and wrapped her free arm around him. She could feel his heartbeats slowing. She honestly had no idea how someone as hyper as herself could have a calming effect on someone who was already fairly mellow to begin with.

However, nothing prepared them for the events that were about to unfold.

Bella was walking with purpose towards them. Heady fright flashed in her eyes as she walked quickly towards the presumed safely of the Cullen clan.

Alice stepped toward her quickly and caught under Bella's elbow. Bella leaned most of her weight on her friend. Her breaths were coming out hard and quick and she had tears blooming in her soulful brown eyes. She looked on the verge of collapse as she was led outside.

They knew better than to question her at that point. What she needed was to feel safe, not as if they were harassing her.

A group of paparazzi awaited the worried group. Emmett prevented them from getting a proper shot of Bella. There was no need for the tabloids to be splashed with her trembling figure the next day, making people ask questions as to what had Seattle's most gifted musician so distraught.

All it would take was one nosy rag doing a little digging to find out about what had happened in Forks four years earlier.

They all knew the trouble that would bring.

Even so, it wasn't like the Cullens or even Jasper and Rosalie knew what had happened to her either. Had someone touched her? Hurt her? Did she have a flashback?

They piled into the limo waiting at the end of the red carpet, having successfully hidden Bella from any shots.

As soon as the door shut and the limo pulled away, it became quite clear that Bella was sobbing quietly into Alice's shoulder. She was also saying something between her sobs.

Esme moved to kneel in front of the girl on the floor of the limo. She did so carefully, trying to ensure that no amount of jarring could send her flying dangerously this way and that. "Bella, my sweet," she whispered lovingly. "What is it you're saying, my child?"

Bella hiccupped as her cries softened. She wanted nothing more than to fling herself into Esme's arms. She knew that she was more than welcome to, and yet she couldn't make herself do it.

Alice sat up a bit and allowed Bella room to speak as her mouth was no longer pressed to Alice's shoulder. "H-he t-tried again," she hiccupped. With that, she leaned back into Alice's embrace.

As she did so, her hair fell to the side and revealed a dreadful sight that caused a variety of different reactions. Some of them paled whiles others' faces turned red with anger. At least one of the women had released a cry of surprise at the sight. But not one of them – if asked now – could tell you what their reaction had been, for they had been completely engrossed in what lay on her neck.

A bite mark.

It was already bruising around the edges and in some places, her skin was broken. Tiny droplets of blood had begun to form.

They could hardly believe the sight. One looking in on the whole thing would ask what all the fuss was about.

But only they knew. Only the people in that limo knew of the implications of that singular bite mark marring her neck.

It was as Jasper had feared. His words when Edward, Emmett, and he had gone to check out the abandoned Volturi warehouse flew steadily into his mind. Felix Volturi had indeed returned to haunt Bella, and what's more, he was taunting them with that fact.

**A/N: ***_**Aim**__**é**_**: some believe the name 'Esme' to be a variant of **_**aimé**_**, which is the **_**passé composé**_ **or the past tense of the verb **_**aimer**_**. **_**Aim**__**é**_** in its infinitive form, **_**aimer**_**, means**__**'to love'. In the case of Carlisle calling Esme, **_**aim**__**é**_**, I meant it to mean 'beloved'. As I do speak French, I personally don't really see how **_**aim**__**é **_**can be seen as to have produced 'Esme' as there is only a slight similarity between the pronunciations of the two words. A major difference between the two is that **_**aim**__**é**_** is without a 'z' sound. However, for the sake of giving poor Esme a nickname, I've decided to use it on occasion. **

**Okay, enough rambling…**

_**Commentaires sont les bienvenus, mes amis )**_


	5. Sandcastle

**REPOST: 3/21/2013**

**A/N: I've been having horrendous writer's block. Please forgive my tardiness regarding this chapter, as well as the length. **

**It'd be great if you followed me on tumblr. Be a little closer. A little less anonymous. The link will be on my profile.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight.**

Bella lay with her head on Alice's lap. Sounds of the others drifted around her, calming her somewhat. Esme was tumbling around in the kitchen. Jasper and Emmett were conversing in Jasper's study nearby. Unfortunately, they hadn't thought to close the door. Sounds of Emmett rage resounded in the bathroom. Rosalie was most likely phoning Charlie to tell him of Felix's attack on Bella.

Carlisle was tending to Bella's wound. She laid stiffly upon the long granite countertop located in Alice and Jasper's bathroom. With her back facing Carlisle, her body curled up in a fetal position, and her head buried in Alice's lap, she braced herself each time Carlisle touched her.

The slight flinch and the tightening of her entire body that was accompanied by each time he touched her made him suggest, several times to Alice, that she should be sedated. Alice wouldn't allow it. Bella was already becoming unresponsive – save her reactions to Carlisle's ministrations.

Alice knew that it would only be putting off what was bound to be a very explosive and self-destructive outburst on Bella's part. Felix's first attack on her quite nearly four years prior had put her in a catatonic state for several months and also caused her panic attack induced seizures.

The worst she'd ever had was the time she bit her tongue almost all the way through. Since then Alice had taken several courses in her university that related to seizure protocol and such. She had taken so many; she was only three credits away from being a biology major.

However, her love of math and things related to the business world persevered and she earned her Business degree, opening a cute little shop down by the Sound.

A small hiss escaped Bella's mouth. Carlisle hesitated before continuing to flush the bite. Filled with clean water and a small amount of an antiseptic, the bottle was strange looking and had a cake decorating type of mouth, making the stream of water easier to maneuver on Carlisle's end, but more difficult for Bella on her end as it stung something fierce.

As he continued to flush the bite, he recited the aftercare that would be needed. Though his touch was highly unnerving to her, Carlisle's muted voice seemed to have a calming effect on her – even though she had no idea what he was talking about. Alice listened carefully, already knowing that Bella was floating off somewhere and was not entirely available.

Carlisle paused in his work, pondering. "When's the last time you've had a booster shot?" he questioned, concerned about tetanus.

Alice leaned backwards to peer down at Bella's face – still on her lap. Bella blinked at her owlishly.

"Bella, _please_," Alice shook her friend a little. Alice knew that it was entirely possible that if it had been less than 5 to 10 years since her last tetanus shot. She may become allergic to the vaccine if she got the shot without allowing an adequate amount of time to pass between them. It would be risky for her to take any more shots after that and she would no longer be protected against tetanus.

Bella burrowed her face into Alice's lap and muttered something about birds.

"Phoenix," Carlisle supplied upon Alice's bewildered look.

Alice quickly masked her features, snapping, "Of course that's what she said. I knew that." She rolled her eyes and then returned to petting Bella's curly hair.

Carlisle said a quick, "Of course, honey," before returning to his task.

Rosalie then walked into the bathroom, muttering to herself in Gaelic. Even Carlisle winced at some of her words. "I need to borrow your car," she said to Carlisle.

He stopped the flushing and looked up at her, eyebrows raised and forehead crinkled. "Why?"

"Charlie's freaking out and I'm afraid he'll do something stupid," she said, holding her hand out impatiently.

"Esme has the keys. She's afraid I'll drive over to Volterra and shoot up the god-damn place," he said with a roll of his eyes, wondering how the hell Esme knew to demand the keys just as he decided to go ahead with his plan. _Damn the consequences_, he'd thought, _that bloodsucker deserves to die_.

Rosalie patted his back, understanding his want to do that and then touched Alice's knee. Alice broke her gaze from Bella's face and nodded at her, telling her she had everything under control. Rosalie responded with a look that said, 'I fucking hope so', before turning and heading towards the kitchen.

Carlisle called after her, "Take Emmett with you!"

Rosalie turned and gave him an indulgent look. The man was already on edge so she just nodded her head and continued on her way to the kitchen for Carlisle's car keys. She worked in the city, and it wasn't like she really needed a car since she would just use the subway or even a cab.

Carlisle sighed and finished up with Bella. She was clenching her fists into little balls at the waist of Alice's dress – which she had yet to change.

After bandaging her up, he put his medical supplies back into his leather bag. He was stalling for time and he knew it. But eventually, there was nothing left for him to pack up or clean until it shined.

He gave Alice a regretful look. She squeezed her eyes shut.

Slowly, he moved to put his arms around Bella's shoulders and under her knees to pick her up.

The first scream was high pitched. Though he was expecting it, he still started, nearly dropping Bella.

But then they became more desperate. A rawness, unlike anything human, crept into her cries. Almost everyone in the apartment froze, except for Carlisle. He made his way out of the bathroom, towards one of the guestrooms.

Emmett, who was standing in the living room near the front door, turned his head, unable to watch as Bella thrashed in Carlisle's arms, trying to get away from the man who had done nothing but try to protect her with every fiber of his being.

She pushed at his chest with tiny balled up fist, so insignificant against his hardened chest that she felt like crying even harder, and so she did.

Alice finally worked up the courage to open her eyes. Moving from her place on the counter in the bathroom, she followed behind Carlisle like a little girl just wanting her daddy to fix everything and make it okay again.

As soon as Carlisle set her down on the bed, she scrambled away from him, into Alice's waiting arms. As she hushed the hysterical girl, Carlisle escaped the room and went towards the bourbon Jasper had locked in the desk in his study.

He forewent a tumbler and dragged a mouthful straight from the bottle. Jasper entered the room. "Guess who's here," he muttered, unenthusiastically.

Edward shoved passed the blond man with a playful grin.

Carlisle sat heavily in Jasper's high backed leather office chair. "Talk to me," he said to his young son.

Edward raised an eyebrow at the open bottle of liquor beside the computer, but continued none the less. "It was Bree."

Carlisle paused. "Bree?"

Jasper's eyes widened. "Are you saying a seventeen year old girl tried to make off with thousands of dollars worth of cocaine just for the hell of it?" he asked, appalled. "What'd you do to her? Did you kill her?" Jasper's curiosity and anger got the best of him.  
"Son," Carlisle warned quietly.

Jasper's fists clenched at his sides. "I'm going to help Alice," he muttered, leaving the room.

Edward's eyes followed his retreating form. "Help Alice with what?"

Carlisle paused before murmuring, "Nothing you'd care about," his eyes downcast.

Edward cast him a strange look before continuing. "The Volturi made contact with Bree. They said if she didn't help them, they'd kill her dad, far before the cancer would," Edward finished quietly.

"How did you –"

"Bree and John are being relocated to a safe house in northern Utah as we speak."

Carlisle slumped in his seat, nodding, before picking up the bottle of bourbon. "Thank you," he whispered.

Edward nodded once before a hard look set into his eyes. "She's here. Isn't she?"

"Edward –"

Edward stopped him with a palm thrust outward. "Whatever, dad. I'll see you tomorrow," he said, shoving his seat backwards before leaving the room.

Carlisle's head fell into his palms. His wife's fingers through his hair coaxed him from his statue-like position a while later. "Try to get some sleep."

Carlisle caught her wrist in his grip, placing a kiss on the delicate skin there before standing. "My _aimé_," he breathed. "I will not rest until that slime is dead and my family is safe."

Esme's gaze hardened before she pulled her hands from his. "You can't expect us to be safe, Carlisle. Not in this _lifestyle_ you've brought us into." She spun around and went to help Alice with a now catatonic Bella.

Carlisle collapsed into the brown leather beneath him, wondering how the hell everything he'd built had begun to crumble like a drying sandcastle.

**A/N: I know how short this was. But it's honestly all I can give you, presently. I apologize. I'm trying. I really am. Review please. And don't forget. TUMBLR. Kick my ass into gear.**


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